


Old Debts

by AZ_Valentine



Category: Multiverse - Fandom, Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Guardian Angels, Memories, Multi, Redemption, more to come in future installments - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-07 17:54:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19474321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AZ_Valentine/pseuds/AZ_Valentine
Summary: A Strauss Redemption Arc. (A better summary will be provided after future installments are made.)





	1. Another Chance

Leopold struggled to breathe. His chest heaved, but almost no air reached his aching lungs. His body burned with fever, threatening to send him into unconsciousness. His heart skipped and jumped in sporadic bursts, shocking him with an electric pain. He knew he was dying. A figure hovered above where he laid, its form obscured by darkness, but sporting a pair of glinting pink eyes with the hypnotic pupils of a viper. He began to cough and choke from the lack of oxygen, his vision faded in and out. His eyes snapped shut; his heart seemed to be trying to crush itself. Extending a shaking hand up towards the entity, his fingers brushed what felt like long hair. The pain was almost unbearable, but he cracked open his eyes, just long enough to make eye-contact with the stranger, and plead for their help.

"Calm," they said firmly, gingerly taking his wrist. Their other hand was pushed into the center of his chest. He threw his free hand over theirs, begging silently for help as he lost his ability to breathe completely. He panicked momentarily, but a stern narrowing of those odd pink eyes kept him still. A series of warm, tingling waves emanated from the stranger's palm, and spread through his torso, dissipating at his elbows and knees. A final surge of piercing pain shot through his heart and lungs - one that would have elicited a scream of agony had he been able to - before the relief settled in. The pain subsided, until all that remained was a dull thrum in his head.

"Relax, and breathe," they commanded, and his body went limp. A rush of cool air entered his lungs, stinging them as he exhaled. "Again, Herr Strauss." This time, their tone was gentler, relaxing him further. He did as he was told, despite his desire to speak to the stranger. He was sure he didn't have it in him to talk yet, anyway. As soon as he was breathing normally, his eyes became heavy. "Now, you need to rest. We'll talk later." The exhaustion settled in like a dense fog, and the last thing he felt before drifting off to sleep, was a tender kiss to his forehead.

_In his dreams, Leopold was back on the mountain near Strawberry. A trail of fresh blood in the snow led him to the tree he'd attempted to find shelter under. He looked around; there was no angry mob chasing him over a debt gone sour, no mountain lions prowling nearby, no fierce winds, and a general stillness all around him. All was deathly silent. As he glanced back to the pine tree, a surge of dread shot through him. All of his logical senses were screaming at him to leave, to retreat for civilization, but some primordial curiosity egged him on into following the crimson line. He edged closer to the tree, noticing the smoke rising through its boughs - his failed attempt at a fire. All it did was smolder, and spit an acrid black smoke._

_From under the tree's thick-needled branches, there came a grotesque crunching sound, along with several visceral snaps and pops. Slowly, carefully, he pushed one of the branches aside in an effort to see what was making those hideous noises. His heart raced, the feeling of dread threatened to consume him, but his curiosity kept him going. Suddenly, the noises ceased. He hesitated, but pushed forward, only to scream aloud in terror at his findings. Falling to his knees, he scrambled backwards. He saw himself, dead, sitting up against the tree trunk. There was an imprint of a boot on the corpse's throat, a bullet wound in his thigh, deep cuts and bruises on his skin, and worst of all, his face appeared to have been gnawed off by a large predator. There was no skin left, only the remnants of a mangled, horrified grimace, and one eye hanging out of its socket by a thread of pink flesh. The body, sitting in a pool of red, seemed to have frozen, too, making it impossible to determine which injuries were what killed him._

_Leopold's attention was drawn away from his dead self by a shadowy figure, swaying behind the tree. It caught sight of him looking at it, or so he could only assume, for the thing had no eyes. He screamed again. The being staring back at him smiled, revealing a mouthful of yellowed, needle-like teeth. It almost seemed to vibrate as it followed him with its intense, blind gaze. Its smile grew wider._

_"I've missed you," the Abomination purred, its voice a conglomerate of three to seven tones at a time. It floated into full-view of the petrified Austrian. He'd never seen anything like it before. A purplish-grey, rock-like carapace made up its torso, and upon its long, elastic neck sat its great head. Gelatinous yet rigid frills with vibrant blue bioluminescence covered the back of its head, ending in a nearly-black skullcap at their base. Most of its face was covered by a light grey, almost shell-like mask, crowned with eleven spines. The grey skin immediately beneath its mask was tinted with a glowing blue; darker than the bioluminescent marks that littered its frills and carapace, but all too telling of its blush. It extended a hand to him. Its long arms were bone, pieced together by thick burgundy tendrils, and its hands were composed of four floating fingers, with what appeared to be polished brass balls connecting the first segments to its broad palms. The creature moved closer to him. Its entire bottom half was nothing but a ragged robe, yet it moved as though something was under it - something squirmy._

_"STAY BACK!!" Leopold dragged himself further away from the creature. Try as he might, he couldn't force himself to look away. It didn't matter - each time he closed his eyes, all he saw were those horrid teeth. The thing came even closer. "NO!!"_

_"Calm yourself, Darling," it crooned. "I am with you in the Waking World. We have much to discuss." It waved its large hand in a sweeping motion in front of his face. He watched it with an intense fixation. Suddenly, a warm wave coursed through him, starting in the center of his forehead, and ending in a low vibration in his chest. He was lulled, hypnotized by the being, into a state of calm._

The entity snapped its fingers, jarring Leopold from his slumber. He yelped, sitting up in a foreign bed with a sudden burst of adrenaline. Breathing heavily, he inspected himself, touching his throat, thigh, arms, legs, and finally his face. Everything was intact. His heart raced, a cold sweat dripped from his brow, falling onto the blanket covering him from the waist down. His entire frame shook; he was still caught up in a state of horror, not yet able to discern reality from his dreams. Then, he saw the pink eyes in the corner of the room nearest to him. They almost seemed to shimmer as they stared him down.

"How do you feel, Darling?" Their tone was soft, if not feminine.

"Wh...wha-what...who are...?" He closed his eyes momentarily, rubbing them. Behind his eyelids, he saw the creature from the mountain, smiling at him. He stared at the stranger once more, searching blindly for his glasses. Finding them on a nightstand to his right, he was able to see them clearer. Their form, slightly illuminated by an orange flame, was that of a woman's. Once more, he shut his eyes, only to see the creature once again, hiding behind his eyelids with that same hideous smile. He jerked back, catching himself on the headboard, his heart racing once more. " _B-beast!_ _Tree...mountain...!_ "

"Um...indeed. Yes," the other sighed. "I found you on the mountain." They confirmed his Fears nonchalantly, their gaze became annoyed. "You're welcome, by the way."

"You...saved me...?" Despite his apprehension, Leopold sat forward, attempting to get a better look at the entity. Their long, curly raven hair was tied into a loose ponytail, the ends tinted with a fiery glow. They almost seemed familiar to him, but without being able to see them fully, he couldn't tell. Regardless of who they were to him, he recognized that they'd saved him from certain death.

"Yes." The being also leaned forward, appearing to rest their chin on their hands. Their eyes met his, sending a pang of fear through him. If they were benevolent, why did he fear them?

"Thank you, but...why?" He pushed his legs over the side of the bed, cautiously scooting himself closer to them.

"It's my job," they said with a half-smile. Their face was suddenly clearer; their dark plum lips were set against warm russet skin, complemented by high cheekbones, and a strong but smooth jaw.

"'Job?'" Leopold echoed them incredulously.

They nodded once. "Yes."

"What _are_ you?!"

"I'm a _really_ weird Angel."

" _Angel?!_ " Their blunt response sent a shock through his mind, throwing him completely off-guard. Slowly but surely, he recalled what had happened up on the mountain. He was running from a debt collector he'd hired, after he'd unknowingly loaned money to the man's younger brother. In his mind, it wasn't _his_ fault the kid had a problem with gambling, so why should he care if he was foolish enough to take money from a known and notorious loan-shark? It'd never once entered Leopold's mind that he could've been related to his hired help. When his enforcer showed up with six armed men, however, there was nothing he could do but flee. A hellish storm awaited him on the mountain, and it was all he could do to attempt to find any kind of shelter available. He'd taken the pine tree, with its low branches and gnarled roots, and tried to make a fire with whatever dry bark and sticks were within his grasp. Ultimately, he failed. While waiting for the cold to claim his life, he listened to the grotesque and horrifying sounds of men being torn apart by a mountain lion, or perhaps two. During his last moments of consciousness, a shapeless, shadowy mass came to him. It'd wrapped its tendrils around him, pulling him into a rejuvenating warmth before he drifted off.

"Is it so hard to Believe?" They crossed their arms over their chest, their figure becoming more pronounced as Leopold's eyes adjusted to the dim light. They were taking the form of a woman, possibly in her mid-thirties, in a modest dress of stained white and faded black, with a grey sash around their waist. Their appearance continued to become more familiar to him, yet he still couldn't determine why.

"Yes! You-you _terrified_ me!" The more he thought about it, the more he could recall what exactly the thing on the mountain looked like. He remembered that smile. It was what'd approached him in his dreams - it was the Angel.

"You only saw one of the many forms I can take when I pulled you out from under that tree." Suddenly, they stood from their seat, proceeding to take the spot right next to him on the bed. He slid himself away from them, but only for a moment. Upon seeing them closer, even in the poor light, he couldn't help but be intrigued by them. Giving them a good glance up and down, his eyes paused on their full lips. Briefly, if only for half a second, he longed to kiss them. A blush touched his cheeks. They were _definitely_ familiar, but any memory of the "woman" was still lost to him. "You know, you've ran with outlaws for over thirty years. I have to ask, how do you explain not being able to start a fire?" Their tone was flat and unimpressed, bringing him back to the present moment. "Or even ride a horse, for that matter..."

"Don't mock me!" he growled, shaking off his intrusive thoughts. Staring them in the eyes, his gaze sharpened. "You have _no_ idea what kind of life I've had!"

"That's a load of shit," they spat back with a harsh glare. "I've been following you for a _long_ Time, Darling. I know who you are, what you've done, and what kind of man you've become since leaving Austria."

"What the Hell do you think you know about me?!"

The Angel rolled their eyes. "I know I saved your ass from that opium pusher when you were thirteen. Dumb move trying to steal from that guy, by the way."

"What...?" The memory came back; he'd taken up picking pockets to try and support his family, and ended up with his throat under the boot of an Englishman with a pocket full of cash, and a bundle of opium. He never did figure out how he'd survived, but remembered his attacker being there one moment, and gone the next. For some time after, he merely thought the man backed off when he saw his older brother coming, but his brother never saw him being beaten and nearly killed. Ultimately, the whole experience disturbed him so much, he'd allowed himself to forget about it entirely.

"And when you were shot in Valentine," they continued, pulling him away from his memory of home. "You should've died, but I redirected the bullet away from an artery."

"Y-you...what?!" He leaned away from them, trying to take it all in.

They stood, waltzing away from him while counting on their fingers. "I told you about Lakay. I helped you escape the Pinkertons when you were kicked out of the Van der Linde gang. I saved you from a bunch of angry men with knives and guns, and also a mountain lion. So you'd better _at least_ acknowledge that I know what I'm talking about." When they turned to face him again, their expression was aggravated, if not downright angry. They appeared to want to say more, but held their tongue, waiting for him to continue the conversation.

"...why would you do all that?" It was all Leopold could muster. As he considered their words, he realized how indebted he was to the strange creature. It made him uncomfortable to be the debtor for a change. He wasn't sure how else he should feel about it.

"It's my job," they repeated themselves, giving him a curt nod.

"Would any other Angel have done the same?"

"Yes."

"Why, then? Why _you?_ " Knowing how much one specific Angel was involved in his life - his survival - he longed to understand more about them. _Perhaps_ , he thought, _there really is more to it than what they've told me so far...I need to know_.

Their gaze softened considerably. "I have my reasons," they paused, sighing quietly. Leopold's shoulders slumped at that, realizing he wouldn't get any more answers just yet. Folding their hands over their lap, they continued. "But, that's not why we're speaking right now. You have a difficult choice to make, Herr Strauss. I'm here to offer you another chance at Life...and a chance of Redemption."


	2. Unpleasant Dreams

" _'Redemption?'_ " Leopold scoffed at this, rolling his eyes. "What exactly do I have to atone for? Surviving?"

"You call exploiting the poor, the weak, and the sick ' _surviving?_ '" The Angel made a disgusted grunt, followed up by an exhausted huff. "The very people someone like you should understand and empathize with the most...you turned against them, and for what?"

"For the gang!" he nearly shouted at them. "For my family! For the _only_ people I had left since coming to this Godforsaken country!"

"And so you chose to forsake your own Humanity to profit from that of others." They offered him a sharp yet tired glare, and a disapproving head shake.

"Money lending is _legal_ work," he snapped, unwilling to concede, and crossed his arms over his chest. "It's not _my_ fault that it's a nasty world out there, Angel."

"You're missing the point, Human," they spat back at him.

"So, what _is_ the point, then?"

"You-" they stopped abruptly, narrowing their eyes. "You know what? Allow me to _show_ you, since, clearly, the Reality of the consequences of your actions and decisions are lost upon you." Without giving him a chance to protest further, they gripped his forehead. A stinging rush of electricity shot through his brain, sending him onto his back, and into unconsciousness.

_As his sight returned to him, Leopold found himself alone in a dark space. A clicking noise came from behind him. He spun on his heel, finding himself face-to-face with the Angel in its monstrous form once again. He stumbled backwards with a racing heart, his initial Fear and apprehension threatening to override his mind. They smiled at him, this time without baring their teeth. The gesture was, oddly, calming to him. Silently, they extended one of those peculiar hands. Although cautious, he took it, not knowing what to expect. The outside of their "skin" was as cold and smooth as stone, but after holding their hand for a moment, it grew warm and comforting. Their blind gaze somehow gave him a sense of tranquility. Instead of asking them what would happen, he allowed them to guide him further into the blackness. He walked alongside the hovering creature silently, until the two came upon a shore. Suddenly, they were bathed in the light of day._

_"Do you remember Algie Davison?" The Angel gave his hand a gentle squeeze, and pointed at a small shack to their left. Leopold turned his head, noting the overturned boat by the shack, with two fishing poles propped up against it. One was broken, and the other clearly neglected._

_"Yes. He was a fisherman, right?" He noticed a young man sitting in a chair in front of the door, a bottle of whiskey in one hand, and a revolver in the other. He spun the gun's chambers idly with his thumb, appearing to stare off into nothingness, perhaps lost in deep thought. There was a certain look of emptiness and desolation in his eyes - the kind of look a man has when he's decided nothing matters anymore._

_"Indeed. Did you know he had a son?"_

_"Yes...?" It then dawned on him that the man he was seeing wasn't Algie, but Nate._

_"Poor kid," the Angel sighed, shaking their great head. "There's nothing I could do to help him now, other than attempt to scare him straight. But, that's not something I really like to do anymore. And, it's not my job."_

_"What makes something 'your job?'" After he spoke, Leopold realized he no longer wished to see Nate. His dead eyes and hollow expression struck a nerve in him, one that took his mind to unsettling places._

_"I'll tell you later." His strange companion gave his shoulder a gentle pat, deflecting his attempt to change the subject. "Nate ended up becoming an alcoholic, just like his father, after Arthur_ killed _Algie. I was hoping he'd try to find his mother, but he never did."_

_"It's a shame, yes, but it's just the world we live in." He shrugged, turning away from Nate, and let go of the Angel's hand. Another scene opened up before him. He stood above an open grave in a churchyard cemetery, the coffin inside was broken open, and its inhabitant's decomposing face was twisted into a frightful grimace. He stumbled back as the dead woman almost seemed to shoot him a murderous glare. Something weighed down his left hand: a diamond brooch._

_"How...?" He tried to drop it, but the jewelry refused to leave him. It began to burn, as though the metal was still hot out of the forge._

_"Do you remember Gwyn Hughes?" The Angel spoke suddenly, causing him to jump in alarm._

_"Yes, I do. He was an apprentice undertaker," he replied hastily, still attempting to let go of the brooch. It seemed that the more he tried, stronger its grip on his palm became, and the more it seared his flesh. "Gott verdammt!!" He waved his hand about frantically, biting back further exclamations of his pain. A quiet hiss came from his palm as an acrid smoke rose from the brooch._

_"Did you know that Arthur had to make the kid rob a grave so he could pay back his debt?" The Angel plucked the accursed brooch from his skin as though it were nothing, then dropped it into the open grave. An unearthly howl from below ruptured the stillness, frightening Leopold into falling backwards and dragging himself away from the burial site._

_"How is that_ my _fault?!" He clenched his jaw, still reeling from the burning pain in his hand. It throbbed, stinging him every few seconds._

_"Circumstances, Darling. Cause and effect. Action and reaction." They waited for him to interject, huffing when he had nothing to say. "Don't you understand how awful grave robbing is? I had to step in and tame the angry Spirit of Mrs. Claypole after that. She nearly killed Gwyn!"_

_"Again, I don't see how this has anything to do with me." He stood again, cradling his injured hand against his chest. He considered asking the Angel to heal the burn, but his Pride wouldn't allow it. "Gwyn could have refused the money at any time, and that would've been the end of it."_

_"It has a lot to do with you. You preyed upon the desperate." The Angel's tone was laced with irritation._

_"Well, people who weren't desperate weren't exactly interested in what I had to offer them." His curt, matter-of-fact response earned him a frightful hiss from his companion. He took a few steps back, silently admitting his Fear of them. When they didn't move, or change their expression, he relaxed himself again, realizing they wouldn't harm him._

_"Of course they weren't interested, Herr Strauss, and that's part of the point of all this."_

_"Meaning?"_

_"Do you remember J. John Weathers?" They waved their hand around in a semicircle, opening up yet another scene. This time, they were beside a burned wagon. The decomposing bodies of U.S. Army soldiers littered the area, raising a stench worthy of disgust and aversion. Vultures picked at their remains, gathered in a frenzied feast - War fed them well._

_"The army deserter?" Leopold spun around slowly, looking for the corpse of Weathers. Unable to find him, his gaze returned to the Angel._

_"He never deserted. He found Love." They smiled slightly, almost fondly._

_"What does that have to do with him borrowing money?" He lifted an eyebrow, unsure of why they were showing this to him._

_"He never told you the entire story, my Dear." Placing a hand on his shoulder, they guided him up the path and away from the corpses. At the top of a small hill stood a young man in Army fatigues, holding a pregnant Native woman. He caressed her tenderly, holding her close. "He'd married that woman, and they were ready to have their first child when you met him. The Army didn't like the fact that they were together, let alone 'mixing breeds.' Although it_ is _true that he never would have been able to repay his debt, despite hiding valuables, he took the money in order to escape with his wife, and secure a safe future for her and their child."_

 _"What does this have to do with_ my _'sins?'"_

_"Don't be an ass," they growled. Even with no eyes, he knew they were glaring at him with at least some resentment. Their patience with him was visibly growing thin, but so was his with them._

_"You're making it easy," he snapped back, wishing for them to just end the experience._

_"God damn it, Leopold!" they shouted, thrusting their fists down through the air, successfully frightening him. Maybe they_ would _harm him, if given the chance. There was no way for him to tell. He stepped away once more, faster this time. "I didn't want to do this to you…but you've left me no choice." They spoke softer now, but were still clearly upset with him. "Do you remember Thomas, Edith, and Archie Downes?"_

_"Err...y-yes." He waited to continue, watching them open another scene. His stomach turned upon seeing Thomas lying in his garden, bloody and bruised, and gasping desperately for the air that never came. He turned away, preferring to look at the angry Angel instead. "I remember Thomas wanted money to try and build an orphanage, or something. A noble cause, I admit, but not something I'd take on a debt like his over."_

_"Did you know that Arthur beating Thomas was what caused an early Death for him?" Their tone was hard and flat, driving straight to the point. This wasn't a battle he could win._

_"I figured as much, when Mrs. Downes came to our camp in Horseshoe Overlook." Still, he tried to keep himself from appearing affected by the turn of the conversation, despite knowing it was futile. Already, the strained grip of guilt tugged at his heart, threatening to overtake him._

_"And, who was it that_ told _Arthur to beat the deathly-ill man if he didn't have the money, all without_ telling _him he was ill?"_

_"I-" He never once believed Thomas was actually sick, and instead chose to believe it was just an act to get free money._

_"Yes, you," they interrupted. He wasn't getting out of this easily. "So, do you know what your negligence in relaying that valuable piece of information did to Arthur?"_

_"Wh-"_

_"Tuberculosis," they snapped, cutting him off yet again. "Your 'friend' contracted an incurable illness from Thomas due to your shortsightedness and indifference to the suffering of others." They may as well have slapped him across the face._

_"Couldn't_ you _cure him?!" His knees almost buckled as he pleaded with them. "Surely, if you can stop me from dying, then you can heal the sick, right?"_

_They shook their head, sighing softly. "Arthur Lived as he was Fated to. It was never my job to Save him."_

_"What...?" His heart sank. He knew where the conversation was headed, but still he latched on to the hope that he was wrong. "Then...then whose job_ is it _to help him?"_

_"I'm not at liberty to answer that. Come with me." Once more, they offered him their massive hand. This time, he took it without hesitation. He was about to speak to the Angel when the two arrived on a mountain, and took their place before a flower-laden gravesite. "Here we are...Arthur's final resting place." Leopold could hardly believe what he was seeing. His first thought was to accuse the Angel of lying to him, tricking him into feeling the guilt that clutched at his heart. But he knew better than that. Suddenly, all he could see in his Mind's Eye was Arthur's progression through the disease. It sickened him, coming to accept that he was partly responsible. The first tear fell, followed by another, and then another, until the pain of his guilt brought him to his knees before Arthur's grave._

_"Tell me," the Angel said, laying a hand on his shoulder. Their tone was soft, but laced with anger. "And, be honest. How many Lives do you think you've played a part in ruining? In ending prematurely? Take a wild guess."_

_"...hundreds." His choked reply was nearly inaudible. He fought against the resurgence of his memories, but the longer he tried, the harder it became. Slowly but surely, he began to recall each and every person unfortunate enough to have crossed his path, and dealt with his enforcers._

_"Very good. Now...allow me to reacquaint you."_


End file.
